


But Then the Wind Changed

by ParadoxR



Series: E Pluribus Unum [2]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: F/M, Military Backstory, Pre-Relationship, Season/Series 01, Team Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-10
Updated: 2014-11-16
Packaged: 2018-02-24 22:03:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2598038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ParadoxR/pseuds/ParadoxR
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack jogs to catch up. It’s polite. He has no problem not staring at her six.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Halfway to China

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mebfeath](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mebfeath/gifts).



> Thank you to bethanyactually for the very helpful beta. Rated for cursing.
> 
> This series investigates what would happen is Sam and Jack thought he was retiring after CotG. Hint, it's awkward, not RST.

“Colonel!” _Crap._

Jack stops two strides short of her and of sulking out the door.

He’s not sure how he feels about either part of that.

“Sorry, sir.” Sam almost trips into the restaurant.

Not that he was sulking. Colonels don’t sulk.

She swallows. “I apologize for being late, Colonel. I was” _being a wuss_ “drafting a TIR.”

 _She knows what a Technical Intelligence Report is._ And she looks _really_ nice in that windbreaker.

 _Your wife just left you, you asshole._ Fortunately, Jack’s operational processing has always been much faster than his personal kind. “Good evening, Captain. This isn’t a mandatory event.” Yeah, and that habit went over just about as well with Sara as it is right now.

 _Mandatory event?_ It’s dinner at a bar. “Yes, sir.”

“You done the TIR?” _Are you physically capable of asking her anything besides work?_ And he wonders why he spends all his retired time alone on his roof.

_Do I need more than two hours to document rebuilding the third DHD I ever saw?_

“Don’t answer that.”

 _Huh._ She wasn’t expecting that. He looks almost nice. As in not mean. And rather unhappy, poor guy. _‘Poor guy’?_

 _You’re standing alone in the middle of a bar._ “Well, come on, have a seat.”

“I wouldn’t want to keep you from leaving, sir.” Sam steps farther from the doorway.

“Just getting another round.” He turns towards the counter. Wearing a jacket and sunglasses. Inside, at 2100. _This is being normal?_

“Thank you, sir, but I’m on codeine.”

Jack just barely winces.

 _He wasn’t offering, you idiot. Wait…_ “Aren’t you also, sir?”

_Just keep digging._

“Hey there, Captain.”

Sam turns with a mildly less-awkward smile. “Good evening, Major.”

“Glad you could make it.” Charlie guides her back to their table.

 _Kind of you to finally get off your ass._ Jack keeps his sunglasses on. Charlie tosses him a look that says ‘I could’ve let you dig through China’.


	2. Never Mind

Jack jogs to catch up. It’s polite. He has no problem not staring at her ass.

“Hey, Sam.”

“Hi, Lou.” Sam tries not to look too relieved to see someone in her age bracket.

Jack stops cold. _They did not just… How did he even do that?_ Charlie stole his chair. Moved his plate and everything. Bastard. Jack’s expression freezes another degree.

Sam glances down the booth and then focuses back on Lou. _You have to sit down eventually._ “I wasn’t sure you’d still be here.” She’s starting to feel cornered. The colonel’s openly glaring at her.

Lou smiles broadly. “Still got almost half an hour.”

 _You’re being juvenile._ Sam slides into the booth. And over two boxes. _Retirement gifts._ Was she supposed to get him something? She hadn’t even known the colonel was reactivated until mid-flight, much less that he… _what? Wasn’t just an ungrateful chauvinistic bastard?_ Basically. Darnit, she should get him something.

“Entirely unnecessary.” Jack looks down to her. The captain is visually dissecting his Simpsons diorama. It’s… actually, it’s oddly thoughtful and gives him a really nice view of her neck.

Sam jolts upward into the colonel’s hard gaze. “Sorry, sir. I mean, I would—”

“Entirely unnecessary.” He repeats. His philosophy of crushing every good thing that happens to him requires that he mention they’re not at all friends. But after saving his life twice she might take that personally. Plus…never mind.

Lou glances at Charlie, who is doing the covert operation equivalent of grinning like an idiot. The younger man smiles pleasantly for the captain. “Thanks for coming all the way out here, Sam.”

“No problem.” She tries to place that back in context. “It’s—this is a lot nicer than Cheyenne anyway. You’re flying right out of Peterson?”

“Yep.” Lou scrubs his hands together. Damn, he misses them. Every time sucks, but he hates the sudden ones. You know, as in suddenly being hurled across the galaxy through a one-way hole.

Sam grins slightly. It must be nice to have a family like that. _And also miserable._ “Where’s home?”

“Mildenhall for now. It’s an air base…”

“Ninety minutes north of London.” She finishes directly. It’s Mildenhall. _Is this you not sounding like a military brat?_

“You been?” Jack finally sits down on the far edge of the booth and rubs his bandaged knee. That hole to China does sound nice.

“In transit.” Strictly true. She also lived there for two years, but who’s counting.

“Can I get you something to drink, miss?”

Sam takes the menu offered to her and tries not to seem self-conscious that she still looks like a bandaged lobster. “Thank you.” She glances at her water. “Uh, diet pop, I guess.”

“Is Pepsi alright?” Sam nods. “I’ll put that right in for your, hon.” The older woman disappears back into the restaurant.

“ ‘Diet pop?’ ” Charlie pokes. Because she’s tense, and there’s nothing Charlie Kawalsky does better than tease an anxious junior officer.

Sam manages to look up without squirming. “I prefer the taste, sir.” _Why can’t people ever just drop stuff like this?_

He snorts. “Sorry, I meant ‘diet _pop_ ’?” Ok, he may be a little rusty.

Sam pauses and looks back thoughtfully. Aren’t they in Colorado? She tries to be good about those things.

“Never mind.” Charlie deflates slightly. This woman has far too much brain power to spend. It’s like every time she look at him she steals three IQ points. …Of course, she’s about cut Jack’s in half by the way he’s still staring at the inside of his sunglasses, so Charlie can’t really complain.

Jack glares back at him and takes off his glasses. “Transit from where?”

Sam jerks to the command voice. “I’m sorry, sir?”

“Mildenhall, Captain, transit from where?” It’d seemed like a nice question four seconds ago.

“Oh. Dammam. Sir.” _He knows._ Of course he knows. He probably knows what she’s had for breakfast every day since kindergarten, much less her own father’s Air Force assignments.

“Huh.” Jack nods into his verbal dead end. “…You think that’d be through Ramstein.” ‘ _Thinking’?_

She grits into the menu before forcing her eyes level. “The mysteries of Air Mobility Command, sir.”

“Right.” Jack probably shouldn’t eat before she gets her food, but he really needs something besides his stupidity in his mouth right now.


	3. Probably at Some Point

Jack fiddles with his fork and doesn’t study the captain next to him. He’d been hoping to find something besides her ‘lash out’ and ‘shut up and say ‘sir’’ modes. “So, Captain, how’re you feeling?”

Yes, definitely cornered. Sam breaks her eyes from the menu. Again. “Fine, sir, thank you.”

 _Would you let the woman order?_ “Good. Great. You look good.” _D’oh._

Sam’s expression freezes. “Sorry, sir, I left directly from the Pentagon, so…” She glances down to her warmup suit and hopes she doesn’t smell too much like industrial-grade laundry detergent. _That’s not what he meant. Neither of those is what he meant._

“No problem.”

Charlie looks every inch the self-satisfied sixteen-year-old.

Except that Jack’s about ready to punch him.

Sam agrees dutifully. Actually, it is a pretty big problem to get yanked from the Pentagon on a Thursday morning and thrown across the galaxy, but sure, whatever you say, Colonel. The red snapper looks nice.

Jack studies his reflection in the tabletop. “And the intelligence reports are good?”

“Yes, sir. You’ll have them by close of business Sunday.”

“No rush.” _Yes rush. Of course there’s a rush._ See, this is why he doesn’t talk in public anymore.

“You’ll have them, sir. As well as my own mission reports.”

The captain is guarding what from anyone else would be a long-suffering look. Fortunately, Jack’s given up pretending to face her and is preoccupying himself with how best to toss Charlie out of Jack’s seat. _Modified major outside reap throw._ He should still be fast enough with that one.

Sam stares at her reflection in the laminated menu. Apparently they’re just going to sit here, then. “Please don’t let me derail your conversation, gentlemen.” She says it without daring to study their reactions.

“No problem.” _You do realize that’s not always an appropriate response._

Charlie smiles openly. “Actually, we were just talking about you.”

Jack almost kicks him.

“You headed back to the Pentagon anytime soon?” Charlie offers brightly.

Sam feigns a nervous smile that pulls at her stitches. “Needs of the Air Force, sir.” Heck with the smirk on Samuels’s face, she could end up in Antarctica within the month.

“Do you want to?” Charlie prods.

The rusty light bulb finally turns on inside Jack’s head. Shit. _Then next time learn to talk instead of staring at your bare ring finger._

“With all due respect, sir, I’ve found that the Air Force cares far more about what I can do than about what assignment I want.” Not that it would prioritize what anyone wants. She’d appreciate a little more interest in the former, though.

Lou grimaces. “Haven’t we all.” Don’t get him started. It can’t matter, not even with all the blood his own airmen shed for their country.

“Oh yeah.” Charlie nods honestly but forces his characteristic levity. “So, you think…”

Sam tries not to let her brow furrow at the elder major. “So probably at some point, sir.”

“You know, Jack lives in DC.”

 _You couldn’t’ve at least paused in there, you son of a bitch? _Jack’s ready to throw something at him. The captain’s suddenly sitting ramrod straight two feet away.

“I did not know that, sir.” _Please don’t tell me that’s what this is about._

Charlie backs off and nods diligently. “Headquarters AF, division chief for future plans.” Division chief, until he went from ‘I want you in this chair someday, Jack’ to ‘Oh, you want to kill yourself? Here, we’ll help’ in the course of two months. Politically brainwashed attempted murders.

“Congratulations, sir.” Sam manages straightly. She still can’t control the blush, but fortunately her sunburn is utterly disgusting.

“Thanks.” Jack clips. It’s more than sharp enough to cut at Charlie’s still-smug mouth.


	4. How Far She Should Turn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now back to your regularly scheduled awkwardness.

Lou clears his throat. “So, where are you inside that Puzzle Palace, Sam?”

Sam nods. “I started out as our Scientific Advisory Board liaison.” And then you guys cut your way in. “My current tour is in Programs and Evaluation.” She’s not going to make major.

“Ouch.”

“It is a learning curve, sir.” Andfrustrating, you know, after someone you don’t know literally sets off a nuclear bomb on all your work.

Charlie snorts. “Bet you miss the Pave Lows, eh?”

She tries to look slightly distracted over top of her menu. “I’m sorry, sir?”

“Sam. I’ll have you know that ‘Charlie’ means ‘warrior’ or ‘free man’. I much prefer it to ‘sir’.”

Sam’s mouth twitches in spite of herself… again. “I’ll try to remember that.”

_What does ‘Jack’ mean?_

“I should thank you,” he adds.

“Sir, Charlie—”

“For the Pave Low upgrades. That’s a lifesaving bird you got there, Sam.”

 _Oh._ “Um, thank you.” _Concentrate._ “I wasn’t anything critical. I’d barely commissioned—just worked with operationalizing FLIR and APQ-158 integration.”

“…Right.” Charlie manages to smirk directly into Jack’s discomfit.

She really has no idea how to talk in a bar. “Sorry. It’s…” _Sam. They don’t care._

“So.” Jack coughs. “I hear you went to Brown.” _And where was that gem of a question ten minutes ago?_

Sam stops herself from jolting at his voice. “Yes, I would’ve gone operational immediately, sir, but USAFA…” _Again, doesn’t care._ “It was only for a year master’s, sir.” She tries a half-chuckle. “Well, more like a semester twice.”

“What happened there?” He’ll try to ignore that smile.

Sam tilts her head slightly. “Saddam invaded Kuwait.”

 _Who is controlling your mouth right now? “_ Right. Think I’d remember that.” _Think it fucking keeps you up nights_.

“Yes, sir.” Sam struggles with her façade. Who _is_ this guy? “And what’d you gentlemen do in the war?”

“Classified.” Jack bites.

She winces automatically. Right. So they’re just going to talk about her all evening, then.

“I led some combat rescue.” Charlie redacts on the fly.

“Thank you.” Sam answers. _D’oh._

Charlie cocks his head oddly. “You needed it?”

That really wasn’t what she’d meant. “Just once.” And sometimes she wishes she could lie.

“Once is more than enough.” Jack offers this more carefully. _Control your goddamn attitude, Colonel._

“Are you ready to order, miss?” Their waitress grins brightly.

Jack would’ve preferred that bell-save to come a little freaking bit earlier. And stop calling her ‘miss’. God, they’d probably card her here.

 _Did you look at that menu?_ “Red snapper and asparagus, please. Thank you.”

Though, it really isn’t a bad smile, at least when they’re not talking about the underrated Achievement Medal on her chest. “So, they pulled you out of Brown?”

Sam still can’t figure out how far she should turn towards him. “Yes, sir.” She waits a beat at his querying silence. “I led the team implementing some FLIR-to-APQ logic I published at USAFA.” She repeats again.

God, she _published_ an avionics upgrade during undergrad. _Are you ready to start acting rather than being idiotic now?_ “And then?”

“And then…we did it.”

Apparently not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Felter, Stephen C., Douglas P. Hill, and Carey A. Smith. “Avionics system integration for the MH-53J helicopter.” In Digital Avionics Systems Conference, 1990. Proceedings., IEEE/AIAA/NASA 9th, pp. 70-75. IEEE, 1990.


	5. Normal for a Minute

Charlie manages not to laugh at the tense silence sitting on the opposite bench. He clears his throat.

“Please feel free to eat, gentlemen,” Sam inserts. _Rather than talk to me._ Please, anytime.

“Lou can. We’ll wait.” Charlie smiles charmingly. He’s all for the extra time. Jack’s suddenly looking a little green anyway.

Sam doesn’t audibly gulp. “No, really. I should check in with Sergeant Siler anyway, sir.” Sergeant Siler, who is apparently too good at his job to bother calling her when she needs it.

“Watch your OPSEC, Captain.” _She’s not going to… let her stand, you idiot._ Jack hops up and kicks himself for ordering a Pentagon liaison to follow phone call security.

Sam slides past her superior officer and schools her features. She’s been working at this classification level for most of her career, no thanks to him _._

And now the captain is way too close to him. _Did you just lean into that?_ Of course not. Jack’s washed-up, but he’s still got far more control than that. Besides, the air smells like… actually, it smells like neutral male deodorant and a little antiseptic, which makes sense after what he just put her through.

“Captain Carter, this is an unsecured line.” Sam offers her superiors a final nod and pushes a finger against her sunburnt ear.

So Jack sinks back down on the bench seriously considers pummeling Charlie. Unfortunately, the younger man just got tapped to run some new tactical course in Florida and would definitely kick his ass. Jerk.

“I think she likes us.” Little-known fact, Lou is a terrible liar when it counts.

Charlie doesn’t actually slap him on the back of the head.

“Maybe a little uncomfortable.” They did take her job and decommission her program last year.

“‘Uncomfortable’?She’d crack if you poked her.” Charlie says around Lou’s jalapeño chili.

“So she’s a little wound.” Lou counters again.

“Clearly needs to get laid.”

Jack’s look almost gives him a black eye.

Sam’s pace falters slightly. _You didn’t hear that._ She didn’t hear that. She never hears that. “No problem, Sergeant. I’ll take the over at Level 20.”These guys can’t seriously think… doesn’t everyone. “Thank you, Sergeant. Well done to everyone. Good evening.”

Lou catches her stutter peripherally. “And you wonder why you forget how many times you’ve been divorced.” He almost growls at the older man.

Charlie grimaces.

“Excuse me, sir.” Jack hops to his feet and lets her back in the booth. Which puts her way too close to him. Again. He really should’ve thrashed his former best friend.

“Sam, I…” Charlie trails off but looks at her candidly. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” She lifts her glass stiffly.

“No, it’s not.” He answers. Because Jack’s about to throw him through the light fixture.

“It’s not a problem, sir.”

“Please call me Charlie.”

Sam breathes. _You’d never make it at the SGC like this._ And DC is plenty bad enough. Someone needs to write an exposé on that mess.

“You have every right to be tense, Captain.” _Yes, because I am an asshole._

 _A Special Tactics major just told you that. _Who does she think she’s fooling? They’d eat her _alive_ at the SGC. “Charlie.” Sam focuses on him and tries to temper her gaze. “I’ve heard worse.”

 _Oh boy._ Lou coughs loudly. “So, Sam, how did you like my beloved Mildenhall?” He glances at his watch.

She tries to answer the segue quickly. “It’s beautiful.” _You’re gonna need to do better than that._ “The Mildenhall Treasure is incredible. Good beaches up in Norfolk.”

 _Ignore it._ “Yeah, they’re nice.” But Jack’s not ignoring that image. _You’re barely divorced. _He’s rebounding. Clearly.

“Been up more than once?” Lou cocks his head lightly.

Sam nods. “I studied in Europe.”

Definitely. Clearly rebounding.

“You a swimmer?” Charlie prods far too innocently for Jack’s taste.

“Or fishing?” Jack adds too quickly.

Sam’s brow furrows slightly. “Club water polo for a while.” She tries to find a casual tone. “And triathlon training for the PAST Iron Man.”

Apparently Jack’s not the only one who can’t do nonchalant tonight.

“Cool.” Lou answers genuinely. It’s not often he meets a woman—or anyone—who nails the special ops training entrance test.

Sam feels like a professor just congratulated her on passing first-grade science five years late. “You swim up at Norfolk?”

Lou smiles. “I usually get enough at work, but Lucy likes it. I prefer hiking.” Helps control the flashbacks.

“I did that up in the mountains for my dissertation. Lets you think.” Sam ends up a little distant.

Lou nods in realization. “Ah, the PhD. I’d been wondering where you did that so quickly.” He half-raises his glass to her. “Go Europe.”

She smiles. “I actually did the last sixteen months in…” Area 51 “Nevada.”

He snorts. “Bet that went over well.”

“Not at all.” She finds herself grinning back. For some reason her advisors didn’t appreciate a doctoral candidate disappearing into a classified foreign government program ten thousand miles away.

“Oxford?” Charlie prods before the lull starts again. That light fixture still looks painful.

“ETH Zurich. Quantum optics.”

 _And she seemed so normal for a minute._ Lou smiles. “Ah, Switzerland. My wife loves the Alps. You ski?”

“Mostly off-roading. The lab used to upgrade our own ATVs.” And now she’s trying to hold a normal conversation with galaxy’s nuclear detonation team.

Lou pulls his chili bowl back from Charlie. “Yeah, Lucy hates skiing. All snowboarding. She might like that, too. She’d like you.”

Sam sets down her glass. “Yeah?” _Did you end that with a question mark?_

“Not typically a hit among the wives?” D’oh. _You know you’re supposed to be the personable guy here._ He digs his fork into Charlie’s plate.

Sam just manages to smile. She is not letting go of a normal conversation thread. “What’s she do?”

“Teacher.” He grins. “Best one ever. Good thing too, the way I keep uprooting her.” He fiddles with his glass.

Sam nods stiffly at the dead end. _‘My mother was a teacher.’_

Lou smiles, looking for another topic. _Any day now, Jack._ “I actually like teaching, too. Coach Little League soccer when I can.” Also, train indigenous resistance troops in close-in exfiltrations behind enemy lines. Depends on the day. “Studied secondary ed for chemistry at Central Florida. I’m nowhere near as good as Luce, though.”

“Central Florida?” Sam repeats needlessly. _Is anyone else going to participate in this discussion?_

“Go Knights!” he jokes.

“What about you, Charlie?”

Charlie manages not to look too relieved that she’s talking to him again. “Agriculture management at Purdue.” It earns him a decidedly ‘I’m not sure how to interpret that’ reaction. He smirks. “Don’t worry, I’d lost all the ag stuff by the time Command Center training rolled around.” Damn, he’s getting old.

Sam nods. “Actually, I was thinking agriculture must be a useful skillset.” She’d done some practical soil science in demolitions training, but ag would be great for the kind of places they’ll be going. _He’ll be going. You’re not on anyone’s team at the moment, Captain. _ Least of all her own.

“Operations engineering management at U of M.” Minored in English. Jack’s just going to pretend someone asked.

Sam blinks. _I told you he had to be an engineer._ “Wow.”

Lou manages not to snort. _That_ one earns a ‘wow’. He’s not sure if that’s because she thought Jack was the idiot he’s playing _really_ well tonight, or if she just likes ops management. Or Michigan. Or him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Charlie’s background meshes (imperfectly) with unclassified changes to Special Tactics training at Hurlburt Field.


	6. Kids These Days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just a quick transition to the final fic in the series. And yes, I realize I probably made Lou miss his flight. I know he'll be back soon, but there was just so much I wanted him to say before he left!

“Well, folks, it’s been fun.” Lou checks his watch and knocks Charlie’s fork away one last time.

Charlie makes a theatric face but waits patiently. “Good to see you again, man.”

“You, too.” Lou pushes his plates decidedly away from the elder major. “And Sam,” he reaches across the table and seamlessly transforms into a candid professional. “It was great to work with you, Sam. Please look me up anytime.”

She shakes his hand. “Thank you, sir. It’s been an honor.” It’s more canned than she intended. He is a good officer. _Yes, too bad you fundamentally disagree on how much you need to know about a universe before you blow it up._

“Charlie, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” Lou knocks his friend’s shoulder as he stands.

“Only every chance I get, bud.” Charlie swallows the younger man’s leftover chili and throws an arm at his back. “My love to Luce.”

Lou rolls his eyes. They like each other alright, but Lucy and Charlie have a uniquely…loud relationship. “Jack, enjoy the action figures.” Lou smirks. They’re a joke, but he’s suddenly hit with an image of his former Branch Chief twiddling Simpsons dolls in a dark basement. _You should’ve gotten him that telescope camera._ Or a job. _Or not a kid’s toy? Freaking idiot._ “And, hey, just…” his jaw twitches emotionally. “Drop by anytime.”

“Sure. Bit of a hike.” Jack answers easily. Honestly, he’d considered following Lou around like a lost puppy. Too bad he’s now terrible around happy families. And lost dogs. “Thanks for coming, Lou. Keep up the good work.” Jack can’t quite fake the correct inflection, but Lou’ll take it the right way. _And worry about you until Christmas._ Not that he isn’t fine. Kids these days.


	7. Wonder Where You Are

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I struggled a lot with whether to include this chapter. I'm not sure where it belongs, and you don’t need it. Angry!Sam is markedly less fluffy than this fic, but she's part of my struggle for movie canon compliance. I think it's going to end up being an important hurdle in Sam and Jack’s relationship. Please choose your own fluffiness level.

Sam braces against the restroom sink and glares up at her sunburnt cheeks. Her arms are still stiff with bandages, and the numbness is starting to wear off. Plus she’s peeling terribly, though it’s hard to see from a distance. It’s a wonder the colonel’s willing to sit next to her.

But she has to admit, the colonel really isn’t the man she’d imagined. Yes, he did upset the balance of power of the galaxy. And take over Giza without a word her or any of the other department heads. And then decommission it. With a nuclear bomb.

Ok, so he’s still kind of an asshole.

But, God, she just cannot jive that irresponsible bastard with the man in the booth outside. He doesn’t even _look_ the same.

She splashes water on her reddened face. _The last thing you need is a crush on a galaxy-destabilizing black ops colonel._ And isn’t that a low she never thought she’d reach.

She should really just leave. There’s too much to do, what with the impending alien hordes from Apophis’s motherships. And God, how does she explain _that_ to the folks who lost their jobs last year? Project Giza almost universally despises the colonel. And most of the civilians hate ‘Captain’ Carter just as much. But now they tell her he took a _nuclear bomb_? What kind of commander just swoops into a program and _literally sets off a nuclear bomb_ without even _meeting_ the department heads?

And he took her job without a word. Let’s not forget that tidbit, though he apparently still hasn’t noticed. _Or just doesn’t care._ Seriously, Colonel, who the heck else would’ve walked into the room and been placed _directly into your mission_? Or is the party line that Project Giza spent fifteen years trying to open a door but didn’t bother training a team to go through it?

Sam had spent years holding down that job against a dozen elite security forces COs. Years convincing the Pentagon to ‘observe, do not engage’. _And then you’re on assignment for them, and they give it to some guy who’s even never seen a Stargate. _She had really been hoping never to see this particular chauvinistic bastard again.

…And she’s starting to think that she hasn’t.

 _You need to get away from him._ It’s just that he seems so normal out there, she can almost forget.

Yes, that’s it. She just needs some distance from the guy that decided to play ‘let’s nuke the Sun God and see what happens’. And didn’t even show his face during decommissioning, not to mention whatever the heck a full colonel does to end up leading a four-man team of trigger pullers.

Exactly. All of that.

So why the heck does he seem so…normal?

Sam pinches her eyes. She cannot fall for this guy. _Just go back out. They’re going to wonder where you are._

She glances at her watch and finally swallows her next pill.


End file.
